Mortal Kombat Review

CGI-enhanced people rip each other apart with all the fake blood and gore fans want. You wanted a review, there it is.

Of course we're talking about "Mortal Kombat," the third theatrical adaptation of the popular video games, which debuts on HBO Max and in cinemas. This is a sort of "meat and potatoes" movie that is best enjoyed on the biggest screen, but if you, like me, watched it on your home setup, then save yourself the costly fifteen buck a month subscription and just watch someone play the latest game on YouTube. Digital entertainment, including video games, have been getting better looking every year since, well, their inception, and unless you have a 4K setup with surround sound and all the fixings, well, any other recent "Mortal Kombat" media probably looks just as good on your average home TV. Hollywood has done very little to distinguish this from anything that can't be, or hasn't already been, done on your PlayStation or whatever, so please, let me ask this, why does this even exist?

To make money, of course! It doesn't bother much with expanding the familiar cast of characters, who snarl, growl, and beat each other into a pulp just like fans want. Now I'm not going to lie and say that I can tell you that Sonya Blade, played by Jessica McNamee, for example, was a member of the special forces in the games, but I'm trusting she is, because the movie told me that. Why would it lie to me?! I mention this because, the plot, doesn't really matter. Each, er, kombatant is introduced, their "special power" shown off (we even get to see some learn them), and they end up having as much backstory as an arcade flyer from the early nineties. Meaning, they have a gimmick, and you'd better hope that gimmick doesn't suck.

By gimmick, I mean a unique way to kill people. Jax (Mehcad Brooks) has robot arms, Sub-Zero (Joe Taslim) can summon ice, etc., etc. This makes for varied hand-to-hand combat, sword fights, the works. No two altercations are the same. It's great for short attention spans, but to the average viewer, you might want to, oh I dunno, know all their last names (we can't all be Miss Blade, if that is her real name). I'm sure the interwebs can tell you that, but remember, short attention spans.

Serving as a complete revamp of the movie series, "Mortal Kombat 2021" is a confusing prospect. It shares its name with the original 1995 film, the first and ninth game in the series (and I'm sure other various pieces of media), as well as the franchise overall. Existing fans already know all this- they'll probably have already pre-purchased their ticket months in advance. But what if they're describing this to their friends, someone not privy to the MK universe?

Fan: "Hey did you see "Mortal Kombat"?"
Pal 1: "Isn't that a game?"
Pal 2: "Wait I think I saw that in high school"
F: "No it's a "new" movie"
1: "So it's the sequel?"
2: "No the sequel came out in 1997"
F: "No no this is a complete reboot.... and.... blah... blah... blah..."

Hold on to your razor-sharp hat, I smell naming nomenclature confusion brewing.

Anyway. None of this matters. What matters is that for about two hours, we see people beat each other up. I'm sure if I saw this in a theater, diehard devotees would be cheering every time their favorite hero or villain made their appearance, said their favorite line or used their favorite move. Alas, I did not see it in theaters, and no one was cheering.

That doesn't mean I didn't like it. I appreciated it's authenticity to my cursory knowledge of the brand, how it didn't shy away from the bloodshed that made the games famous, and its relatively well-staged action. Where it stumbles is in its pacing, how it glosses over any backstory or nuance in favor of vague declarations of "the prophecy" and setting up the inevitable slew of sequels and spinoffs. This gets in the way of its one job, to showcase violent ways for people and creatures to meet their end.

The narrative involves a tournament between the Earth and Outworld, in essence, between the good and bad guys. We primarily follow Cole, played by Lewis Tan, an MMA fighter with a family. After meeting Jax, him and his kin are attacked by the wicked Sub-Zero. He drops off his wife and kid and meets up with Sonya, where him and the audience are given a brief exposition dump, learning the truth about the dragon tattoo on his chest. This means he has been chosen to fight in this "Mortal Kombat." More characters are introduced, fights happen intermittently, more story is dropped unceremoniously, rinse and repeat.

At one point Cole's daughter is in danger, about to be smushed at the (four)hands of the giant evil Goro. (She doesn't, fortunately.) It's never said how old she is, but I'm guessing she's still in school. Let's hope in this fake movie-world she's on April break, because  I can only imagine her telling the teacher she didn't do her homework because she was busy not getting killed by a four-armed monster from another realm. She'd probably get detention.

Thunder Force Review

Superheroes are inherently silly: they wear rubber suits, capes, have "catchphrases" and defeat equally goofy villains who's plans are usually "to take over the world!" Yet a lot of movie adaptations play it decidedly straight, but why? Why oh why can't Hollywood see the humor built into the material!? Sure, there are exceptions, but most are huge spectacles with millions of dollars spent on fights, explosions and other CGI unnecessities that you could easily forget that they originated as colored pictures sold to children.

"Thunder Force," starring Melissa McCarthy and Octavia Spencer, doesn't do that. Of course the budget was probably in the millions, but this Netflix release isn't interested in visual fidelity: instead, we watch our leads fumble their way through an evil politician's plan to win the election, then kill the winner when he loses, to ultimately become President. McCarthy plays the slob and Spencer is the smart one, and well, you could probably write the script yourself based on that description.

The action here is purely to service the punchline, so don't go expecting anything Marvel or DC worthy (or even worthy of Netflix's own "The Old Guard" or "Project Power"). That's fine if the writing is any good, but here, it's just passable. Surely, the team behind "The Naked Gun" or "Austin Powers" were not involved.

There is an amusing subplot involving "The Crab," played by Jason Bateman, who unsurprisingly has crab hands. That's about as far as his "power" goes, which I'm not convinced is a power to begin with. He's one of several henchmen to the baddie here, "The King," played by Bobby Cannavale (and before you ask, "no," there isn't "The King Crab" puns here). This alone is a pleasant diversion, but the film goes further with it. The best part is his relationship with Lydia, played by McCarthy, a few pats of butter and a tin of Old Bay seasoning.

The actual set up here isn't based on an preexisting superhero, but it's narrative is purely based on stereotypes of the "idea" of superheroes. Bad guys who show up suddenly? Check. City unable to stop them? Check. Heroes who inject themselves with a serum to give them powers? Check (not "double-check," Octavia's character takes a pill). The list goes on and so could I, but does anyone care? What you the reader want to know is if this is worth its runtime, and perhaps also if this could be McCarthy's critical comeback. Both of those go unchecked.

I didn't hate "Thunder Force." I chuckled a few times, grinned more than that, and only winced at the one or two corny moments. It didn't have to be this mediocre, but it is. That's good enough for Netflix, and apparently America (the flick is number one at the time of this review). And for a lazy Sunday, it's good enough for me too.

"But!" you ask, "why does this gets two and a half stars yet something like "Wonder Woman 1984" gets only two?" It's a good question; the two aren't comparable! This isn't something designed to compete with the marketing muscle of the two big superhero brands, but instead a breezy, high-concept comedy that sets its sights on mild merriment and nothing else. If you find the sight of Melissa McCarthy drinking beer in inappropriate places hilarious, well, then, put down your own beer and log into Netflix.

Godzilla vs. Kong Review

On a certain level, "Godzilla" movies are invulnerable to western audiences reactions: they are a Japanese product, even when they involve the completely American King Kong. Oh sure, we love our creature features here in the states, but even when a familiar face or production company crops up in one of several Hollywood takes on the famous kaiju, it isn't really for us. (Save for 1998's TriStar "Godzilla," but then again it wasn't really "for anyone," except for those who like when movies go "boom" real good.) Anyone with internet access can see that the last few installments, the ones in Legendary's "MonsterVerse," have made a bulk of their box office returns from international territories. We are simply window dressing for the real audience: everyone else in the world.

Fortunately, that hasn't kept the franchise from the American eye for the past decade-plus, and debuting day and date with theaters, HBO Max showcases the latest installment, "Godzilla vs. Kong." A gloriously dumb film that doesn't shortchange what it promises: two monsters fighting each other. Well, I mean there are human characters, but they're about as interesting as an instruction manual. They do the same stupid things anyone has ever done in a previous Godzilla or Kong movie, exclaim inert dialogue and convey about as much emotion as the CGI titans they're fighting for or against.

To dissect the plot would be pointless, as every moment is designed to set up the next bash between the title duo. It would also be a disservice to you the reader- be honest with yourself, do you really "care" why the two battle it out? If the narrative involved Godzilla burning his lip on some tea Kong prepared and he got all pissy, it would still rack in millions. Enough to recoup its outrageous budget? I doubt it, but you get the point.

All you need to know is that, in the span of less than two hours, we infuriate secret corporate laboratories, travel to the center of the Earth, zip in subterranean train cars from Florida to Hong Kong, resurrect a fan-favorite, save the day, and still find time for a throwaway joke about underage drinking. 

It's instead more interesting to point out all the silly moments, like when it's revealed early on that Kong can read sign language; how did a team of scientists studying him not notice? How many words does he know? How does he know the word "enemy" or "Godzilla" if he's been taught by the little girl Jia (Kaylee Hottle) in a secret fake jungle? How can he see the tiny child when he's so tall? At what point did the filmmakers realize that the idea was ridiculous and decide against giving Kong a voice synthesizer ala Amy in Michael Crichton's "Congo?"

Outside of all the monster mayhem, the most interesting bits are when we're at the core of the Earth, "Hollow Earth" in the film, where we find all sorts of smaller creatures living about their days amongst the namesake behemoths. This gives us our first honest look at life other than titans or humans in this so-called "MonsterVerse," and I stood off of the couch wishing we got more of these scenes. The fictional animal kingdom, where we can observe the food chain, their day-to-day lives outside of the hypothetical boxing ring, could go a long way in giving us a new reason to care about what's onscreen. Alas that's not what we get, but maybe next time!

A franchise about computer-generated giants duking it out can only sustain itself for so long, unless they come up with new ways for them to fight. In "Godzilla vs. Kong," in tradition to its legacy, throw punches at night in a neon-lit cityscape. Is it original? Absolutely not. Is it entertaining? You better believe it. This is not high-class filmmaking, but it is mass audience popcorn, supersized, salted and with extra-butter.

Nobody Review

What's utterly fascinating is how violence is OK if the mayhem ends with a wink. The 2018 remake of "Death Wish" was trashed by critics (today sitting at an 18% on Rotten Tomatoes), yet "Nobody," at the time of this writing, has a 79% on Rotten Tomatoes. Why is that? Both released shortly after a tragic public shooting, a fact critics couldn't help but have on their minds while writing their reviews. Film criticism is subjective of course, and who knows? Maybe "Nobody" is just that much a better film? Perhaps "Death Wish" talked gun politics instead of just showing guns in action? I don't have those answers- I dunno, I thought those were pretty good questions.

It's not entirely fair to compare these two pictures, despite the fact that "Nobody" owes a large part of its narrative to the franchise that made Charles Bronson a star in the seventies as it does the recent "John Wick" movies. In fact it's written by the creator of the Keanu Reeves pictures, Derek Kolstad, who's script probably looked a lot like this:

Bang bang. Punch punch. Bad guy dead. Good guy alive. Good guy curls his left eyebrow. Next scene

It doesn't contain nearly as much humor to push it into parody territory, but any film willing to have Christopher Lloyd walk around with a shotgun blasting guys a third his age is not playing it totally straight.

The actual plot is vague and loose, with Bob Odenkirk playing Hutch Mansell, a boring family guy who, after his house is burglarized, is patronized by his son, coworker, neighbor and it gets to him. Turns out he's an ex-auditor, which is movie-speak for what amounts to "a government hitman." His itchy trigger finger eventually gets to him, and soon he rides the bus looking to trouble, and finds it quickly, putting the punks in the hospital. Turns out one of them is the younger brother of a Russian drug lord, and well, uh, that's the movie. What follows are a lot of fisticuffs and gunfights, stylized like the Wick films and every bit as brutal.

This means of course the action is easy to follow, frequent and generally thrilling, but it's all been seen before. Hutch booby traps his office like 2019's "Rambo: Last Blood," and blood, limbs and body flies in all directions, all onscreen. And I rooted for it, every moment of it. Action movies and thrillers have long suffered from overstuffed spectacle, and for all its cinematic familiarity, it's still refreshing to see humans in front of a camera on an actual set instead of greenscreens.

I'm giving "Nobody" three-stars because it does what it sets out to do: entertain. I cannot endorse that the violence onscreen is in good taste, in general or in light of recent events, and I certainly won't advise anyone to step into a theater during a pandemic. But it accomplishes its modest goal with modest success; this is not your dad's "Death Wish," only it's exactly that, and you'll probably enjoy it just as much.

Coming 2 America Review

Eddie Murphy is funny- no one is denying that. Even when beset by box office failures, he's always just one "comeback" film away from being on top of his game. "Coming 2 America," sequel to "Coming to America," debuts on Amazon Prime and, well, if you think watching Eddie Murphy play Zamunda prince, now king, surrounded by a cast of Arsenio Hall, Leslie Jones, Tracey Morgan, Wesley Snipes, and much more, then go watch it. I'm sure you'll laugh.

But the film is a curiosity in antiquity, where jokes that may have been appropriate in 1988, the year of the original, may no longer be so "OK." In 2021, comedies need to be careful not to offend anyone, and "Coming 2 America's" way around such political correctness is not to necessarily avoid such hot topics, but instead to identify what's happening as "wrong," and then simply go forward with the joke. Not that that's a bad thing, or is it?

Take for example the character of Reverend Brown, played by Hall, who is referred to as "the sexist preacher," or something to that effect. Why is he in the film at all if he's sexist? It begs the question: is that even a problem?

I'm getting off topic though. The big thing is that this long-awaited sequel is bright, energetic, and it's scattershot script fires in many directions and is bound to hit something that'll make you laugh. Or smile. Or at the very least, grin in mild amusement. Actually, actively not turning off the app and watching Netflix is the "very least." That my friends, was my reaction.

That was my take away at least, having not seen the original.

*gasp

That's right readers, this author has never seen the first in this series, which is only now a series. Why? Why not, that's a better question. More often than not, sequels just retell the same story with mostly all new jokes- I'd rather have a good time today with a film made today, then to soak up all the enjoyment of cinema from yesterday. Whether or not that makes any sense is irrelevant; this is a film review of a long-gestating continuation of something made over thirty years ago.

A lot of this has nothing to do with the final product I'll admit. Maybe I'm just not all that interested in describing the plot to a comedy where people in the 50s and 60s play an upward of four characters. You can see them sweating through their pounds of make-up as they come in for the punchline. If you have to strain for the laugh, are you sure the script is even worth it?

The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run Review

It's entirely unfair to expect the third "SpongeBob" movie, "Sponge on the Run," to strike the line between "kids" and "adult" entertainment ala Pixar, because Pixar this very much isn't. This is ninety something minutes of optical empty calories, bright and colorful simply to keep kids entertained while giving "fans" of the series more to either laud or laugh about online.

A familiar tale about friendship stretched to feature film length by celebrity cameos, inside jokes, a "Titanic" reference and at least two musical numbers. In that respect, this "Paramount+" original, at least here in the states, is more reminiscent of the "DreamWorks" catalogue; you watch it, maybe you enjoy it, but it's not going to stay with you.

The story this time around is this: SpongeBob's (Tom Kenny) snail Gary is kidnapped (*sigh* "snailnapped") by the evil Plankton (Mr. Lawrence), so that he can steal the Krabby Patty secret formula without our absorbent titular hero saving the day. His best friend Patrick (Bill Fagerbakke) tag along for the ride, and, well, that's about it. Every time you think the duo are just about to retrieve the gastropod, something inconsequential happens, and more often than not, it's a saccharine assault to the eyes and ears.

Though the plot is as dull as ocean water, the animation is charming, the 3D visuals full of personality and offers a unique look on the ubiquitous universe. This is a multimillion dollar flick and it shows, an expensive method of delivering what is otherwise a regular episode of the show.

At least all this respects its franchise, with each joke, reference, and moment onscreen having something to do with the greater "SpongeBob" world, unlike the recent "Tom & Jerry." And it'll no doubt do well for the newborn "Paramount+" subscription service as it goes up against the streaming stalwarts.

But the biggest success here is being a movie for children that never insults them; oh sure, the whole ending is one big lesson in acceptance, but it uses characters kids know about, in the show's own terms.

Without the novelty of the first one SpongeBob movie or the the fish- I mean "sponge" out of water gimmick of the second, this third one goes back to basics and delivers just enough personality to stand up against its predecessors. Look, "The SpongeBob Movie: Sponge on the Run" is no masterpiece, but it's a serviceable digital babysitter.

Tom & Jerry Review

You know you're in trouble when a movie opens to rapping cartoon birds.

It was at that moment when I realized what kind film "Tom & Jerry" was going to be- an unfunny, lousy, and boring one. Unfunny in the sense that not once did I crack a smile; lousy in that the titular critters are an afterthought to petty human drama, and boring in the sense that, while watching, I checked my clock so many times that I realized it was about twenty minutes ahead. It's a wonder I'm on-time for anything.

Based obviously on the Tom and Jerry property, like so many other "animated/live-action" hybrids based on antiquated cartoon franchises, the story here nothing inherent to do with the drawn cat and mouse. Instead the plot centers on "Kayla," played by Chloë Grace Moretz, who lies her way into a temp job at some swanky hotel in New York City. Queue conflict, as the establishment is in the process of hosting a huge wedding, and wouldn't you know it? There is a mouse- gasp! Being the Big Apple, they should be lucky it isn't a rat the size of King Kong. Oh, Tom the cat is also there, but that happens for no reason other to ensure hijinks ensue.

Actually no, Google tells me that "hijinks" can be defined as "boisterous fun," which isn't what we see onscreen. I'd pick another noun, but it probably wouldn't be a nice one.

This rodent has both the owner Henry (Rob Delaney) and the events manager Terrance (Michael Peña) worried. "Hire a cat," pitches Kayla, which the former is for but the latter's against, but under the condition that its existence and theoretical capture is kept a secret. "Can't have the tabloids hearing we have a vermin problem," or so her boss says. This creates what I call a "false plot," where a character in power says "don't do this" only for the main character, and other secondary ones, to do it; they speak over walkie talkies about "catching the mouse," and at one point yell "mouse" time and time again at the hotel bar, easily within earshot of guests imbibing and make small talk in the background.

The other issue Jerry causes is when we hear the groom Ben (Colin Jost) ask the staff for elephants for his ceremony. This creates two outcomes: one with elephants and without elephants. Of course elephants will be involved! Why is that even a question!? Even when bride-to-be Preeta (Pallavi Sharda) objects, we the audience know this is a set up for chaos and would come away feeling cheated if we were denied the chance for such pandemonium.

Ultimately, there isn't much of a narrative here; there is only so much that you can do with a duo who's whole schtick is chasing each other with hammers, or baseball bats, or skillets, or, well, you get the idea. The filmmakers are right in the sense that slapstick can't purely hold a movie together, so it isn't any wonder that the script is about how dreamers can dream their way through life and enemies can work together if they put their differences aside, yada yada yada.

But it's a complete copout that this production isn't any more complicated than a Saturday morning cartoon. The people involved here don't realize that kids are smarter than we often give them credit, and instead pat themselves on the back by producing a product who's purpose for existing is to show bright colors edited together with slapdash pacing to the tune of pop songs. Tom and Jerry are really only up to their usual antics for probably about 35% of the runtime, so even if we were to forgive its general cinematic laziness, it would still fail as a proper representation of what the "Tom and Jerry" series is about. Maybe that's the problem. Or, maybe next time they'll adapt something that has an actual plot.